


Where It Began

by primaveracerezos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, House Party, M/M, Marijuana, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primaveracerezos/pseuds/primaveracerezos
Summary: Draco finds Harry at a house party.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	Where It Began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittyCargo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCargo/gifts).



> One million thanks to the lovely glittering_git and kittycargo for their fantastic beta work! <3
> 
> Title from Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. Yep, I went there.

Draco is at a coworker’s house party, even though he doesn’t want to be. He didn’t have anything else to do and he couldn’t think of an excuse, so he’d grabbed a bottle of wine to give the host. He even made a plan: He’ll just take a quick lap, say hi to everyone, then leave. Maybe pick up some Thai food on the way home. 

Now that he’s here, he regrets it. The first room he finds is packed with dancers, the music is overwhelmingly loud, the air sticky with beer and sweat. Draco doesn’t see his coworker, so he sticks the wine on the kitchen counter next to a big jug of some unnaturally green beverage and finds a quieter room to make his quick appearance. 

There are a couple of soft-looking couches and the room is a little hazy with smoke. Draco recognizes a few faces from Hogwarts, but no one he knows especially well. He’s starting to leave when he spots Harry on one of the couches, a soft, goofy smile on his face. His hair, normally only half-tamed, has gone fully wild, streaming around his shoulders and stuck to the back of the sofa. Draco hasn’t seen Harry in years. He’s certainly never seen him like this. 

Harry glances up and Draco sees the recognition register in his glassy eyes. Harry’s grin broadens and he waves Draco over. Draco feels a flush climb up his cheeks and, for reasons unknown to himself, sits next to Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry says. His voice is soft and raspy. 

“Hello.” Draco doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He folds them awkwardly in his lap, but he feels like a schoolboy, so he shoves them into his pockets instead. He wishes he had something to hold onto.

Harry still has that same smile, like he’s thought of something funny but is trying to hide it. “How do you know Thalia?”

“We work together. What about you?”

Harry gestures lazily at a group of former Ravenclaws playing a game on the coffee table. “They know her. I just tagged along.”

Draco huffs a laugh. “Gatecrashing, Potter?”

But Harry just shrugs and smiles again. This time, Draco notices a little dimple at the corner of his mouth. Draco wants to touch his freckled cheeks. 

“You don’t have a drink,” Harry points out. 

Draco shrugs back. “I wasn’t going to stay long.” He’s surprised by his own honesty. 

“Oh? You weren’t?”

“Nah, I…” He wants to make up something, that he had somewhere to be, someone to meet, but he can’t make himself do it. Harry’s eyes are so dark, his lips so pink, his face so open and painless. He looks so _different_ right now than he does in those smiling Witch Weekly covers. Draco clears his throat. “What are you on?”

Harry smirks. “It’s just weed. Do you smoke?”

Draco shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Cool.” Harry shifts so he’s facing Draco. “So what’s your life like these days?”

It’s all so disarming; Harry seems totally at ease. Draco barely knows anyone here and this couch is so soft and the bass from the other room is dampened by the walls just enough that he still feels it in his chest but it feels good. So without much thought, without letting himself map out the possibilities for this conversation, Draco just answers him honestly. “It’s better than it used to be.”

They talk for some time, longer than Draco realizes or intends. Harry snags them two bottles of water and some pretzels from the kitchen, which he munches in between questions. He’s listening so intently to Draco that when Harry’s hand finds his, Draco grasps it without a thought. Harry’s hands are warm and broad and broom-callused. They make Draco’s heart go a little off-beat.

After an hour, or maybe several, Draco feels his stomach rumble and remembers his plans for takeout. Harry laughs at the sound and offers him the bowl of pretzels. 

“Actually, I was going to grab some Thai on the way home.” Draco hesitates. “Do you— Do you like pad see ew?”

Harry groans. “God, yes, I would die for some noodles right now. Let’s go.”

Their hands stay clasped all the way to the restaurant.


End file.
